


The Cursebreaker's Heart

by Skullszeyes



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Arguing, Blood Magic, Blood and Violence, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Dark Magic, Developing Friendships, Elemental Magic, Fantasy, Fictional World, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, High Fantasy, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Magic-Users, Magical Artifacts, Mild Sexual Content, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Necromancy, Not Beta Read, Out of Character, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Rough Kissing, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence, fictional cities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Evan, a magician with a rare gift, has come upon a remnant of an old teacher of his, and is worried for the safety of his friends, and many others who are like him.





	1. A Letter Of Despondency

**Author's Note:**

> Yo. This idea came at me around 3-4am, I had no idea if I wanted to write it around that time, and maybe scrap the idea, but as I woke up, it stayed with me, and so I read some books and listened to music, and worked on my original writing, the first image finally appeared in my head and made sense to me. :) Everything needs time is what I'm saying. 
> 
> I know that I have many bbs fics to work on, but I guess you can say I'm one of those creative people who have waayyy to many ideas. LOL. I don't like not finishing something, so I'll write up an outline, and figure out what this story truly has, and come back with all that. (Let's hope it doesn't take too long. lol.)
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

_I write to you so I can make amends and to the friendship that we shared over the years._

He wrote on the piece of white paper in black cursive. Evan Fong sat in a small dim coffee shop next to a wide window. The rain had stopped not too long ago, and the sidewalk had greyed, and the road’s asphalt was darker as slick reflected cars drove by. He had sat in the coffee shop for over an hour, trying his hardest to write a letter. A letter that he kept crumpling and discarding into a pile in front of him that sat next to his coffee cup. He wished there was a better option for this, but he made a mess of himself, and he wanted to make things better. Even if writing a letter was archaic to the sort of friends he had, or the acquaintances he keeps at an arm's reach.

Evan tapped his pen, and a young male waiter appeared, asking about the coffee. Evan asked if he could refill it, and the man took the cup and disappeared. Evan stared down at the paper, at the words, and let out a sigh.

This was horrendously unbearable.

He was burnt out. He should’ve known this was a bad idea, did it really matter if he apologized for the things he had said and done. Not like the flicker of light that he destroyed could ever make amends for the rest of the house that had set on fire. The cold winter air reminded them all that it was his fault. All those precious possessions now smoldering ash, and the quiet curses growing loud as biting wind nicked his skin.

He tapped his pen a few times before setting it down and saying his thanks to the waiter who had brought his cup back to him. He lifted the cup and closed his eyes to smell the divine scent of roasted beans and sweet cream and sugar that were stirred together. The first sip was more than divine, it was pleasing, and it smoothed out all the edges within him.

He set the cup down and began writing once more: _Our friendship. I did say what I wanted to say, but the flames was not entirely my fault, nor the words that followed that came from your mouth. I want to apologize, and if you reply, I won’t mind apologizing in person. I’d rather not face your wrath until we’re on the same page, and you may call me a coward all you want. I need to know that this is alright. That our friendship did not end with that first spark. I told you the truth at the time before the fire, and I’ll correct what will happen afterwards. I only need clarification._

_\- Evan Fong._

It’ll have to do. For now. He folded the paper and set it into a white envelope and made sure it was sealed before taking out from his leather brown book bag that was sitting on the chair beside him. He had several stamps he had brought with him, unsure what made sense to him pertaining the letter itself, but the one that truly did catch his eye was the golden owl. He set it in the corner, and wrote the address to his friend.

Now all he had to do was send it.

Evan frowned out the window, at the silver sky and the sharp blue that kept appearing and disappearing. There was no harsh wind to go with the brisk weather, and even with his dark coat that hung on the back of his chair. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted another cup of coffee, he wanted to throw away all the papers he had written and messed up on. Some were curses more than the others. A few were deeply terrible apologizes that were better spent on his knees, begging for an early grave. But that was just him and his exaggerations and a lack of coffee when he first arrived to the coffee shop. Desperate for his own statement and beliefs, including how he felt towards the words he hoped to understand.

He couldn’t stay forever, but he did sit for another hour and downed the remaining sips of his coffee before getting up. He threw out the paper and pulled on his duster coat that was black and came down to his knees. He buttoned it up before leaving the coffee shop, and to his surprise, the cold wasn’t bitter, but there was a bit of relief to feel the coolness against his cheeks.

The letter stayed between his fingers as he walked upon the wet sidewalk to the end of the street. The lights blinked several times until the green flashed and he crossed the street, slowing his pace as a group of women walked ahead of him. He was a little nervous which to him was an understatement. He hated doing things like this, he was twenty-six, not fifteen, he could say sorry and that would be that.

Except his friends weren’t exactly the forgiving type. Well...actually only one didn’t forgive so generously like the others. It only made letter writing worse, at least he agonized over it.

Evan walked by a homeless man sitting against a white stone building with a deep mahogany wood door leading into a store. The wide glass windows displayed white mannequins in winter coats, scarves, skirts, and pants. Nothing overly cheap, or even interesting.

Except, Evan felt a strange feeling come over him and he slowed his pace. The man had an unshaven face, a salt-and-pepper beard, thin strands of hair upon the top of his head. He wore a brown raggedy coat with moth eaten holes, a blue shirt underneath from the collar poking through, and his pants were also too loose for the weather that was about to descend upon Carran City. His shoes were no better.

He held out a silver soup can that clicked with a few coins already given to the man earlier that day. Their eyes met for a moment before Evan continued down the street. An ache inside his chest confused him. There wasn’t a lot out there that can make him question small things in the world, but this isn't exactly new either. He knew Carran City was filled to the brim with them, but still. The letter felt strangely unimportant now that he felt the pinpricks upon his neck.

He’d have to look into it. With a deep and ungrateful sigh, Evan stood in front of the red mail box. He stared down at the letter and bit his lip. He had to let go a bit of his pride and take some responsibilities that he should’ve stopped the blaze when it began. If only the place wasn’t neutral ground, but that wasn’t the point.

Evan dropped the letter into the mailbox and turned away before he could reach in and grab it. His fingers trembled and he had to curl them at his sides to ignore the rush and relevancy of what he had done. Breathing deeply, he walked away from the mailbox, counting his steps until he returned to the old man.

Evan reached into his pocket of his duster and pulled out a few silver coins. The man didn’t look at him, simply waved the silver soup can at everyone besides Evan. As if he were a ghost, or simply had enough pride not to hope for the money in Evan’s hand. It didn’t matter, Evan was going to give the man the money, more so than the coins in his already barely half filled can. He can see four within, clicking to together with the movements, the sound echoing inside his head, over and over again. He felt the wave, sickening and bright that left him nauseous.

He knelt down, looking at the old man. “Do you know what you have inside your can?” he asked him.

The man didn’t respond, his gaze on the passing cars and the cloudy sky. He was lost in whatever reverie had placed him in. He didn’t look troubled, but Evan can spot it besides the homelessness of the man. The tells on his hands and his face, strained of empty tears that once streamed down his cheeks, and the creases between his brows from stress. The small nicks upon his fingers of either a knife or even paper cuts, but something more than the normalcy that walked the street and ignored him.

Evan snapped his fingers and the man came to a stop with his movements. His dazed brown colored eyes cleared, and he breathed as if he was taking his first breath past the surface of the water that had suffocated him for so long. His hand stopped moving, and he placed the can down, turning his gaze to Evan.

“Thank you,” the man whispered.

Evan breathed in, the scent of food, spices, meats, vegetables mixing together in the spot around them. “A chef, am I wrong?”

“Once,” the man replied, somber, “a long time ago.”

Evan smiled, playing with the coins in his hand. “Curses are a terrible thing.”

“They are indeed,” the man said, frowning, dismal of whatever fate had placed him on the sidewalk. He looked within the can and Evan spotted the tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s not real, is it? The dreams, my life, everything that I had...before?”

“It is,” Evan told him, dropping a coin inside the can, and a tear rolled down the man’s face as his skin warmed, and he let out a trembled relieved breath, “if you want it back.”

The man nodded. “I do. I do.”

Evan dropped another coin in, and the smell of spices, salt and pepper, of meat cooked and served, steaming vegetables, and salted fish all came together. “Don’t take the word of one who would take your own.”

The man cupped the can, trembling with it. “I won’t. Not again.”

“Memory filters, it wanes with time, don’t reject it for pride or even the temptation of those who would give you more than what you already have. More doesn’t always mean what you think it means, sometimes less is better, even when it comes to family and love.” Another tear rolled, and Evan stood to his feet. “I can’t do anymore for you.”

The man cleared his throat, breathing deeply before smiling with happiness that he probably haven't given in a long time. “You gave me freedom, and that is everything. Thank you.”

Evan returned the smile and dropped the remaining coins in the metal can before walking away. There were many like them, threads of them throughout a city that deems them less. But most aren’t like the old man, and Evan can’t save everyone he comes across, but he can save the ones who were placed in precarious situations that he himself can free.

He’d have to get into contact with a few friends, because the curse the man was under, he recognized it.


	2. The Cursed Rune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan is trying to find a cure, but his cure leads him to trouble he didn't expect to find.

Jonathan gritted his teeth as he appeared in a dark alley, hands grasping for the cold wall, and his feet met splashes of ice dirty water upon slanted concrete. The smell of rotten food and death was close, and he wrinkled his nose, but it was too strong to rid. He hated warping to places, there was no telling where his feet would land, and who’d be waiting for him. This time, however, it was intentional, but it didn’t mean he didn’t like it.

He looked to his left side and caught sight of a man standing in the dark under a damp awning. His face was shrouded, and he was shaking from the cold rain that had fallen unfortunately upon the city. How long he was standing there, Jonathan wouldn’t know, but it looked like it was for some time.

“Lavender,” Jonathan whispered.

“That isn’t what I want to hear from you,” the man spoke, harsh and annoyed.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and stepped closer to his friend, Luke. “It’s the code word, idiot.”

“You fucking scared me,” Luke said, rubbing his hands together, “oh, and applesauce.”

Jonathan shook his head. They’d have to get better code words, but it didn’t matter. They were finally together, although in a dark ugly alley, but together nonetheless. Their meeting wasn’t only for some get together, it was something a bit more dangerous, and they did their best to stay ahead. This time, it was different, he noticed Luke’s slouched posture, the way he was glancing back down the alley, and hiding from the light of the moon.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, easing fire in his veins to warm his body.

Luke pushed up his right sleeve and showed it to Jonathan under the light, and he examined it, hands grasping Luke’s arm, fingers pressing near the mark, but not bothering to touch it.

“Shit,” Jonathan whispered. This was bad, he didn’t know exactly what it was, but he recognized who had done it and felt its purpose as he let go of Luke’s arm. His own hands tingled, but he wouldn’t step away from his friend who was obviously in distress. “What did I tell you?”

“Shut up,” Luke remarked, pulling his sleeve down. “We decided on this, don’t put the blame just on me.”

Jonathan nodded, trying to think of a solution. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Luke tensed. “I can’t use anything.” Jonathan’s brows knitted together, confused. Luke noticed and shook his head. “Magic. I can’t use it. The mark is a Negate Rune. I’m fucked, Johnny, just completely and utterly fucked!”

“You can’t break it?” Jonathan asked. There were some like them that can break these types of spells, mostly by will or overpowering themselves until they’re nothing but sparks. It was doable, at least with their skills, it should be.

Luke shook his head. “No. Okay. I feel it, Jon, I fucking feel how strong this magic is, and its not some stupid ordinary shit. It’s a fucking curse.”

“A curse?” Jonathan whispered, barely passing through his lips. Now that's something they couldn’t do. Curses were reverent and vicious. There weren’t many who could enact curses, but the man they were running from could. And there weren’t many who could break them. They were deemed unlawful against magical beings, including the humans who had no magic.

“I don’t know what to do,” Luke said, hugging himself. “He wanted to cripple us and now he has.”

Jonathan shook his head, distant. “You’ll be fine.”

Luke scoffed. “ _Fine._ You think this is fine? I am cursed, Jonathan, cursed!”

There was something he knew, something that he caught hold of once when he heard whispers between the walls. The parchment of old books no longer were of interest to him at the time. He closed it with the brush of dust that made him sneeze. The voices had lowered, faded away with each passing step until Jonathan heard nothing, left with silence and the lingering words they had spoken beforehand.

Jonathan looked straight in Luke’s eyes, and a placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I know how to break it.”

“How?” Luke asked, skeptical.

And he smiled, because he knew the whispers may have been nothing but rumor, but once he had dug deep enough to consider its truth. Now it seemed like a good time to find that truth, to seek it and bring it to light. Many who try to hide never truly stay in darkness.

“His last apprentice before us,” Jonathan said, leaning close, “was a Cursebreaker.”

Luke blinked. “Are you serious?”

Jonathan laughed, feeling excitement swell in his chest. “I heard students whispering about it once, and I had to know.” He pulled his friend out of the alley and down the long matted streets of Aetheria. The city close to The Veiled Tower, too close for them to stay any more than they should.

“It could be a rumor,” Luke countered.

Jonathan shook his head. “No. I think those rumors were true.”

“A Cursebreaker is not known to the public,” Luke said, his hand going down to the mark, “and they wouldn’t be wandering the street alone. They’d be revered.”

“Or hidden away,” Jonathan said. “Think about it, _he_ took upon two apprentices, but failed to mention the previous.”

“We did ask.”

“Sure, but it’s not like he fucking told us the truth.”

“Flimsy lie.”

“He was never good at lying.”

And maybe that was where they should have began. Questions had once piled, but they were close to the source of power, it warmed their skins, and brought more happiness then they’d ever had before.

“Okay, so if this so-called Cursebreaker is alive and well, where the hell would we find them?” Luke inquired, giving Jonathan a raised curtly brow.

“Well,” Jonathan began, but even the words stalled in his throat.

Luke rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Not like a Cursebreaker is easy to find,” Jonathan retorted, placing a hand on his hip, “they’ll like buried treasure—”

“—And all we have to do is find the map,” Luke said, grinning. “Now who do we know that can find us buried treasure with a drop of blood?”

Jonathan returned the grin, “He’s still in the city?"

“The last I heard,” Luke said.

“Then let’s go,” Jonathan linked arms with Luke and before his friend could protest, they were gone from the street in a flash of light before appearing outside of a shop across the city. Luke wobbled and fell to the side, while Jonathan staggered to help him.

“Don’t fucking do that,” Luke said, slapping Jonathan’s hand away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan said, nausea swirling in his stomach. “I can’t help that it’s faster.”

“We could’ve drove!"

“Warping is _faster._ ”

Luke glared, “And dangerous, what if there was a car, it could’ve hit us.”

Jonathan grabbed Luke’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “We’re here, quit fucking complaining.” Sometimes he wondered if Luke would truly act childish forever, but even he couldn’t suppress the fear that they could’ve died. Not like a few spells would set some broken bones, heal scraped skin and restore blood to the veins. It took a bit more time than warping, but he knew for certain that he wouldn’t let anything happen to Luke. And this hunch of a mission they were on to break his curse was proof he’d do anything.

“You think he’s home?” Jonathan whispered as they rounded to the back of The Sleeping Owl. A shop that holds many enchanted objects and scrolls of dark spells. Orbs. Mirrors. Books. Various small familiars. All the sorts a Magician would need and would love to require if ever needed. Most of the things in the shop, however, were cracked and broken. It’s the only reason why Jonathan and Luke don’t buy anything from the proprietor, but they know him quite well.

“The bastard better be awake,” Luke said, rapping his knuckles against the side door.

Jonathan teetered on the thin cement walkway as water dripped from above them. It took some time before Jonathan wanted to use a spell to open it, or before Luke would simply find his way in. Once they crawled through the window and their friend placed a protection spell on the doors and windows. Not like it’d stop any of them, their magic wasn’t as strong as theirs.

“Okay,” they heard someone call from the other side of the door, “I’m coming…” the door was unlocked and pulled open to a thin pale faced man with brown hair. He looked young, and to Jonathan and Luke, he was. The man screwed up his face at the sight of them, “What the fuck? Why are you here?”

“We need your help,” Jonathan said, grasping Luke’s arm and pulling the sleeve up, he showed the proprietor the mark, and the man stepped back, brows knitted together with confusion, “to find a Cursebreaker.”

The man, as they well know him as Jaren Smith, but goes by SMii7y on his off days had waved them into the shop. Jonathan closed the door and they were draped in darkness while Jaren led them upstairs where the strong scent of cinnamon, peppermint, gunpowder, and cigarette swirled in the room they now stood in.

Luke flicked the light on and took a seat at the kitchen nook in the corner. Jonathan sat across from him, drumming his fingers on the glass table. He noted the sight of plants hanging above them and a pot of white and purple flowers upon a mantel beside a few picture frames of Jaren’s family and close friends. They were even in one of the pictures, smiling in a saturated photo.

Jaren came back, wincing from the light and holding a tome with faded text on crinkled paper.

“I haven’t used this particular spell in a long time,” Jaren said, setting the book down on the table. It was written in old languages, all dead and undecipherable, but written in something that Magician’s recognized from years of training. It could be considered a relic of some kind, at least to humans who enjoyed ancient artifacts inside glass containers.

Luke scoffed. “You used this a month ago to find your grandmother.”

Jaren wrinkled his nose, placing a finger on the paper and smoothing it out upon several faded drawings. “That was a different spell. This one is of raw energy and,” he broke off, shaking his head, “are you going to tell me what’s going on and why you have a curse on your arm?”

Luke glanced at Jonathan and back at Jaren. “I don’t think you’d want to know.”

Jaren’s shoulders were tense. “I probably don’t.” He looked back at the page, and stepped toward his drawer where his utensils were and took out a sharp knife, he brought it back over to them, and set it down next to the book. “You do know blood magic is illegal.”

“Not partially,” Jonathan commented.

“Rules are rules, but if I’m found out, I’d rather not learn about the consequences,” Jaren said.

“You can trust us,” Luke told him, “we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Jaren looked conflicted. “A long time can mean nothing with one little awful truth under the right pressure.”

“Let’s not think of the consequences of our actions,” Jonathan said, smiling, “and help us find this Cursebreaker.”

Jaren nodded, turning on his heel, “This spell needs a stone.”

“Why a stone?” Luke asked. They watched Jaren rummage through another drawer and pulled out a small pink metallic bag and plucked out a glittering purple crystal, he tightened the cord and stuffed the bag back into the drawer.

“Everything needs a medium,” Jaren told them, setting the stone down.

“A Cursebreaker doesn’t need one,” Jonathan states.

Jaren smiled, grasping Luke’s hand, and taking up the knife. He cut Luke’s finger and Luke glared at him at the sudden action, the blood dripped upon the stone. “A Cursebreaker uses whatever they can, anything they touch, they feel in the air, and the ripple effect that hones their skill is a medium for them. However small or big it might be. A Cursebreaker is useless without spells and curses.”

“They can break spells?” Luke asked.

Jaren nodded, whispering as he wrapped the stone in Luke’s hand, and Jonathan watched Luke clench his jaw before his hand loosened and Jaren caught the stone.

“Cursebreaker’s might as well be called Spellbreakers, they can break anything they can, but their magic is malevolent, it comes from dark places with dark souls,” Jaren said, placing the stone on the table and closing the book.

“That’s it?” Jonathan asked, frowning at the ordinary crystal sitting between them.

“That’s it,” Jaren repeated, walking away with the tome while Jonathan picked up the stone.

“This will lead us to the Cursebreaker?”

“It will,” another voice spoke, husky and raw as Jaren was shoved out of the hallway, the tome falling from his hands as he hit the ground before them.

Jonathan and Luke were already on their feet, Luke holding the knife.

“Who the hell are you?” Jonathan asked, looking at the man with short dark hair, a long bang barely covered his thin gaunt face, his lips stretched into a smirk, while his eyes were amber. Jonathan couldn’t help but shiver under this man’s gaze. He wore a black coat, and held no weapon, but Jonathan can feel the strength this man held, it poured from him in uncontrollable waves.

“Crow,” Jaren said, voice strangled, a hand on his throat, “it’s a Crow.”

The man chuckled. “Good, at least you know who I am.”

A Crow. It’s not like Jonathan reads up everything about dark covens, but these ones worked for someone they knew, who hunted them, who cursed Luke. And now they stood in front of this man whom Jonathan knew would easily best them in a fight.

“What do you want?” Luke asked, glaring heavily upon the man.

“I want your search to seize,” The Crow spoke in almost a soothing tone, although condescending, “this has nothing to do with the both of you.”

“I’m cursed, asshole,” Luke said, “it seems your boss has a hit on us, and you’re what, trying to threaten us.”

“ _T_ _rying_ is a word I’d rather not use,” The Crow said, “but I can easily find a way to show you that the warning is quite loyal to his word.”

Something was off. _He_ knew they were searching for the Cursebreaker, but why? It seemed almost urgent.

Jaren gagged, his mouth wide open as smoke poured out onto the floor, his eyes reddened under the pressure as he choked up dark coals that began to move, and when he was able to speak, he whispered a language long dead, and the ashy creatures grew in size in the small kitchen. The Crow, however, did not look frightened in the least. 

“Heed the warnings worth before wasting it.” And The Crow was gone, and Jaren had risen to his feet, stumbling towards them.

“The Storm Council,” Jaren said through harsh gasps as he and Luke held him up. “You have to leave if they know you’re here…they’ll know where you’d go, and I say that whatever The Crow was trying to say seemed to be quite dire.”

“I know of the Storm Council,” Luke said, his hands shaking, he had set the knife down when he caught Jaren.

“Go,” Jaren said, holding himself up.

“Are you leaving?” Jonathan asked, knowing he’d have to. They led trouble to his doorstep, and Jonathan didn’t wave away the guilt in his chest.

“I’ll contact you once I have another place set up,” Jaren said, smiling. “The crystal will allow you to find the Cursebreaker.”

“Sorry,” Luke said as he headed for the door.

“Happens all the time,” Jaren said as Jonathan left with Luke.

“You know of this Storm Council?” Jonathan asked Luke as they walked down the street.

Luke nodded and gave him a wry expression. “Carran City.”

“Shit.”

“I know.”

Jonathan linked arms with Luke, and grinned. “Then let’s go and find us a Cursebreaker.”


	3. The Storm Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan is ranting to a friend of his, trying to figure out what he's supposed to be doing, but two random men appear out of nowhere, asking for his help.

Evan stared into the fireplace, holding a glass of Whiskey, and feeling less inclined to drink it. He explained to a close friend of his of what was happening, and what he had learned. It was troubling and he had to figure out a plan to fix it before it got too out of control.

“Are you sure it’s what you sensed?” a woman asked, his close friend who was named Scarlet Ann Hester, she was sitting in a luxurious velvet chair with gold handles. Her long wavy brunette hair was parted to the side of her shoulder while she wore a red dress, holding a glass as well as he did, except hers was Vodka.

“I would know  _ his  _ magic anywhere,” Evan told her. And he couldn’t believe he sensed it in the old man, felt the wave of it, the smell of metallic pennies spelled and cloaked. He would recognize it anywhere, the curse itself was laid out, not as strong since the man who was cursed wasn’t a Magician. Ordinary with every right, his life taken from him. His entire mind was foggy of his past, but as Evan slowly broke the curse, he started to remember and everything flooded back in.

“A replica?” Scarlet suggested.

Evan wrinkled his nose and turned around to face her. She was a beautiful woman, a lot older than he was, and most wouldn’t know her age. She was one of the strongest Great Magician’s of this era, and whatever immortality she has casted upon herself was a mystery all on itself. Evan wouldn’t meddle with things like that, not when his own ties keep him centered to the Storm Council.

“I don’t think so,” Evan said, “it was too...messy. Like  _ he  _ wants me to know he’s in the city.”

“Maybe you should start hunting then,” Scarlet said, smiling. “If he wants you to find him, then why not find him?”

“It’s against protocol,” Evan said, trying to ease out the excuse as much as he could, but Scarlet has been with the Storm Council for many years, why bother lying to her. She didn’t say anything, smiling peculiarly at her drink. “I’m not sure what I’d do if I found him. It’s not like he’s supposed to be wandering the streets.”

“Yes,” she straightened, “I figured he was locked away in the Iron Citadel for his...unsavory experiments. I wonder how he escaped.”

And maybe that’s what worried Evan the most. He didn’t want to jump into a hunt if the man he used to work with had escaped an incredibly difficult prison. He needed a plan, something to tip the scales.

“Maybe you should get into contact with Lui,” Scarlet said, smiling at him. A calm within her hazel eyes.

Evan frowned at the suggestion. “No. I already spoke with David, Lui’s back at The Veiled Tower in the Frost March. I won’t be able to get into contact with him until he returns.”

“Evan, you have everything figured out already, you’re just afraid of what will happen when you make contact with him again. Spouting out excuses to me for the last half hour is not getting you anywhere.”

“Then why are you listening to me?” he asked, taking a sip of his Whiskey.

She shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do, but wait for the  _ errand boys _ to return from the store. The situation hasn’t gotten any worse besides a few cursed Hollows. If the man truly wants to make an impact, let him give you a better reason to involve yourself.”

“And this isn’t?” Evan asked, frowning, setting the glass on the mahogany side table. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“Curses are made by fools with no direction,” Scarlet told him, “you should feel proud that you know how to rewrite them. It’s his own fault he should find himself on the same battle field as you.”

Evan wasn’t sure if she was right, but he wouldn’t deny her either. It was troubling, a mixture of bad things to happen, and he only knows it was about to get worse.

The double doors to the room opened and two men wandered in. Both almost the same height, one with soft features than the other. They wore tweed coats and plaid brown pants with brown shoes. They smelled of autumn air and crisp wind as they drifted across the room toward Scarlet who laid her hand out.

“Do you got my cigarette’s?” Scarlet asked. Brock stepped forward and placed a small white pack into her palm, and her fingers curled, red nails that looked like sharpened knives scraped softly against the front. She looked to the other who had his hands behind his back, chin tilted up, waiting for her command. “Throw it into the fire, I’m sure the universe will thank us for our generous donation.”

Brian gave a stiff nod as he walked toward the fireplace, took out several bills wrapped in an elastic band and threw it into the fire where it crinkled and blackened, turning to ash.

“Past the Vodka,” she told Brock who reached for the glass bottles sitting on a mantelpiece and poured until her glass was barely full.

They were her apprentices for almost three years. He’s known them around the same time, but over the years, their rebellious natures shifted into a more obedient one. It spoke of respect and restraint. Sometimes he can spot the urge to break through their indoctrination, but why would they when they were being taught by a Great Magician. There weren’t many in the world, and the ones who were barely took on apprentices. The lucky ones, however, had to learn the hard way that because they were being taught by one of the strongest magic users in their era, doesn’t mean it was going to be a fun time.

“How long have you been in Carran?” Brian asked, glancing at him from the corner of his eye when Scarlet waved her at both of them, giving them free reign of their own accord.

Evan shrugged, picking up his glass. “Arrived several days ago, but I never expected to find a  _ cursed bearer _ on the streets.”

“Really?” Brock said, astonished. “Is that why you’re here?”

“I don’t visit unless I need too,” Evan raked a hand through his short dark hair, “but, I have an apartment situated in this city, and since I feel less safe on my own, I figured Scarlet can help with my predicament, but I can see you’re only amused by this,” he said, looking to Scarlet.

“Helping would be my unadvised characteristic.” She smiled, not directly at him, but the sentiment was made. “You know the rules, Cursebreaker, I’m not meant to fight in battle, unless a war is set, which we both know that is undeniable upon The Storm Council’s decisions.”

That’s what makes this entire order unbearable. One moment he’s sitting with one of the strongest people he’s ever known, quietly mocking him with a sip of clear Vodka, and the next, people like her aren’t even allowed to step in when the need arises. In other words, this isn’t her business, but his own and he had to deal with it without inside help.

“Since you’re not going to led aid outside of these suffocating walls,” Evan downed the rest of his Whiskey, shaking his head at the awful burning taste, “can you at least help me figure this out? I have no idea what I’m meant to do against someone like  _ him.  _ I can’t even get close to touching him.”

Brain frowned. “I’m sure I know what you’re talking about, and I’m sure I know that you don’t want to touching something like  _ him _ . It’s how own fault for contaminating himself, but last I heard, wasn’t he in The Iron Citadel? How’d get he get out?”

“Incompetence,” Scarlet replied with a smirk.

Evan passed the glass to Brock who poured him more Whiskey. “I’m not sure how long he’s been out, but I’ve noticed the growth in  _ curse bearers _ in the last several weeks and they’re getting close to The Storm Council.” Shaking his head. “I’m fully aware he knows where I am, and whatever he wants from me, I want to make sure he doesn’t get.”

Scarlet furrowed her brows, she passed the glass to Brian and stood from her chair. “There’s something coming.”

“What?” Evan asked, glancing around the room while Brock and Brian stepped toward their Master. It couldn’t be this early, he wouldn’t bother making the mistake of actually coming after him now?

“Not what you think, dear,” Scarlet said, noticing Evan’s distress. “The magic is low, I’m surprised it’s making the trip.” Scarlet gestured with her hand. “Make yourself useful, the magic itself is filtered of the Void.”

“But it’s not a threat?” Brock asked, hiding behind Brian.

“Depends,” Scarlet said, sitting back down and waving to Brian to give her back her glass.

Evan sighed, feeling sluggish as he waited for the inevitable. And then it came, it was a flicker of light, similar to the spark of electricity, and a loud thud hit the floor with two groaning bodies, followed by a string of swears.

“I hate it, I fucking hate it,” one man with blond hair said, shoving his friend off of him and untangling their legs from each other.

“My bad, I…” the other turned his attention to the group who were staring at him. But before he could say anything more, his friend began to choke on something in his throat until it came out, saliva mixed with black blood dripping onto the red carpet. “Hey, hey,” he gripped his friend’s arm.

What was going on? Who were these two? And why did...one of them feel familiar, a pressure that reminded him of the curse bearer on the street. He glanced between them but came to the conclusion that the one coughing up blood was not of some kind of internal infection, but from the curse itself. He was cursed, and it was the same as the old man’s, but this was different. Something stronger was mixed in with it.

It smelled of Negation. Smoke and olives.

“Do you have a Cursebreaker?” the dark haired male asked, his eyes pleading as he looked between the four.

“Who are you?” Brian wondered, tilting his head to the side, frowning at the man coughing up blood.

“Never mind about that, I know there’s a Cursebreaker here,” he pulled out a stone, purple with the distinct smell of blood covered and soaked into the rock.

Blood magic? Dark and malicious, but finely crafted.

The man pulled up the sleeve of his friend who began to shudder, clenching his teeth as his veins became more prominent under pale skin. The mark was dark and etched by a knife, healed with a slight puckering of the skin.

_ His  _ rune is on this man’s arm, burning right in front of him. Evan stepped closer to the two, he brought up his hand toward the dark haired male and levitated him off the ground with a flick of his hand. The man flailed, trying his hardest to reach his friend while Evan knelt down to inspect the mark itself.

“Is it his?” Scarlet asked, and the sense of her energy was a pressure on his concentration as she bound the dark haired male behind him, giving him less energy to consider.

“Hey, are you...are you the Cursebreaker?” the blond haired man asked, frantic.

Evan blinked a few times, it was a harsh darkness seeped into the mark, a root within the occupant. He knew what it was the second he set eyes on it. This was a message, a disturbing one, and maybe a lazy way in telling Evan that  _ he  _ did know where he was.

He placed a hand over the mark, watching the man’s facial expression shift to pain and relief as Evan pulled the mark free. The darkness dissipated from the body, the sickness fading as blood leaked out of the wound as Evan pulled away. The knife mark was still there, a thin reddish scar that some called a Rune Burn, nothing more than the remains of a curse.

Brian and Brock were at his sides right away as Evan stood to his feet, watching them heal the man from his injuries.

He shook his hand, ridding the rest of the curse away as he turned toward the second man. The one with dark hair and blue eyes. He was staring at his friend, worried of what was happening to him.

“You broke the curse?” he asked, glancing at Evan with a stillness at the revelation.

Evan stepped closer to him. He couldn’t move his arms or legs, not when bound by Scarlet who was casually drinking her Vodka. Evan knelt in front of him, looking into his eyes as the man gave him a wary glance.

“You’re the Cursebreaker?”

Evan held the stone the man dropped when he was picked up. Moving it between his fingers until the blood waned and became white, and the man was shocked as Evan showed him the rock. There was a small light flickering inside it, as if a living being within was trying its hardest to fight against him, but that too went out like a light.

He dropped the stone and said, “You’re not a Blood Witch, nor is your friend. Your magics are actually quite low for that  _ distinct _ medium.” He wrinkled his nose, and inspected the man. Where did he and his friend come upon the curse? There was something about him that was strangely off.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, breathing him in.

“W-what are you doing?”

Evan wrinkled his nose. Shriveled herbs, a rot. It’s not his usual scent, but something else in his skin. Evan opened his eyes and stared at the man as he came to his conclusion. This was a little trickier, but also noticeable.

“You’re also cursed,” Evan said, grabbing his arm and broke through a part of Scarlet’s binding spell, and clasped hands with the stranger.

“W-what! What do you mean I’m cursed?” he asked, glancing past Evan’s head to his friend who had sat up thanks to Brian and Brock. “No. I didn’t come into contact with him—”

“Him?” Evan whispered, blinking, trying to concentrate on the root of the curse. “You know him.”

The man stared, his lips parted, but nothing else came from him as Evan reached within the man and broke through the curse, dispelling it as he let go of his hand. He stood, twisting around and reaching for his glass sitting beside Scarlet’s on the table.

“Let him go,” he told her.

Scarlet snapped her fingers and the binding spell faded away while Evan drank the Whiskey.

“Luke,” the man called, coming to his friend’s side. “Are you okay?”

“So, you think they’re also a part of it?” Scarlet asked, finding the entire situation amusing.

“It’s too familiar,” Evan said, his mouth had gone dry, but the curses were small, weak things hidden within other spells. “Too close, the message...I don’t know if I can stay in Carran City.”

“He’ll eventually find you,” Scarlet reminded him. “You might as well find out what he wants and end the dispute. I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing.”

Evan nodded, downing another glass as he spun around and sauntered toward the two low leveled Variants. He hadn’t thought  _ he  _ would bother to apprentice them, he might as well have taken in two Hollows.

“Who are you?”

The Variants wore exhausted expressions, yet there was a mild relief in their eyes. The dark haired male spoke first, "I'm Jonathan," he nudged his friend who said his name was Luke. "We were apprentices to your former Master."

Were?

“Where is he?”

“We don’t know,” Luke answered, his voice raw as he wiped away sweat from his face. “The last we saw him was at The Veiled Spire in Aetheria City.”

Evan raised his brows. “Aetheria City? He’s there?”

“Last we saw him,” Jonathan said.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” Brian said, pouring another glass of Vodka for Scarlet. “He isn’t even in Carran City.”

No. It’s not a good thing. These two were former apprentices, but why would he attack them unless they were used as an example.

“You didn’t know you were cursed?” he asked Jonathan who shook his head. “It’s an infection type curse, one that smells of herbs, it hides the curse and rots the insides,” the man winced, “if I had to guess, you probably contracted it from your friend.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at Evan. “How the fuck would I do that? The curse on me was Negation.”

Scarlet chuckled, “Negation is a curse easily broken by Variants. If you couldn’t break it yourselves, and from the looks of how you found the Cursebreaker, even your Blood Witch couldn’t bother to break it.”

Evan didn’t like that they used a Blood Witch to locate him. They weren’t the type he wanted to get close to, knowing them, they could easily take his blood and perform other types of sacrifices. Possibly ones that aren’t meant for this world, as much as they already bring forth from other dark places.

“You’re a means to an end,” Evan told them, shaking his head at the mess, “he wanted you to find me, to make me break your curses in a way of mocking me.” There was no point in letting them go any time soon. He placed his hand up and before they could react, he bound them together onto the floor, both of them struggling and swearing as he turned to Scarlet.

“I’ll call in some people, maybe they’ll assist the damage,” Scarlet said, waving at Brock who followed her out of the room.

Brian came to stand beside him as they both looked down at the two struggling Variants. “What are you going to do to them?”

Evan rolled up his sleeve and let out an exhausted sigh. “I guess I’ll sift through their memories and see where he’s been.” It’s not something he wants to do, but it something he has to do.

He knelt down in front of them, both staring wide eyed as he reached his hand out and said, “This might not to hurt, but if it does, no one is going to hear you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've also decided to add multi POV's. So instead going between Evan and Delirious, I'll also do SMii7y, Brock or Brian, maybe Lui. :D Or whatever fits whenever I write up an outline. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	4. The Ancient Scroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lui and Daithi are trying to manage a few threats that are beginning to arise, but they might have to go on a journey of ancient beasts to solve its secrets.

The tattered voices spewed around him, collecting in hives that were all distorted and mangled. He breathed in the scent of fire and grime, the wet upon the dark stone with carved wards. It was pushing and prodding against him, a sliver of pain and relief scattered throughout his body. Almost like bugs nipping his skin under his loose clothes. He tried to relax, more and more, he counted the breathes releasing between his lips until the faintest sounds growing from the hall to his far left let him fade the control he clutched in his chest.

“Lui!” A familiar voice, the echo was loud with harsh pants upon the stone steps he sprinted upon before entering the room. “Lui! I found it.”

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times at the flickering flame, including glancing at several others inside the room. They were sitting like he was, some on a pillow, others on the stone floor, while a few simply laid down on the blue cloth and were quietly sleeping.

“Hollow…” one of the men whispered, all of them in a dreamlike state, except aware of who was in the room that broke the concentration.

“I told you,” Lui glanced up with a pointed look, “to be quiet...these sessions take a long time to master and if you fuck it up,” he rose to his feet, ignoring David’s smile, “then everyone has to start all over!”

Lui glared at the ones opening their eyes and returning the annoyance at him. He grabbed onto David’s arm and dragged him from the room.

If his friend was going to ruin his concentration, he might as well bring the entire room down with him. They headed through the narrow halls, dark and damp, until they came to a set of stairs that they climbed until windows revealed streaks of sunlight and frost upon the surface.

“I found it,” David repeated once Lui let go of his arm. He held a thin tan scroll in his hand. It was tied with a willowy string, and there was a scent to it, a clinging of rose and dirt covered mushrooms. A ward was placed on the scroll, one that hadn’t been touched in a long time. It was probably also the reason why David didn’t bother opening it.

Hollow’s didn’t have the inclination to touch things they weren’t allowed to touch. And this was one of them.

Lui sat on a bench with pillows and he gestured for David to bring it over. Placing it in his hand, Lui turned it to the side, inspecting for any marks, and found none before giving David a smile.

“I’m so glad Curse Breakers are rare.” Lui turned it to the side a few times, before touching the string and pulling it free. He tossed the string and carefully unrolled the scroll while David sat beside him on the bench, leaning against his shoulder to look more closely.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m hoping it’ll tell us.”

What Lui did find on the scroll seemed to annoy David, he let out a sound in his throat, shifting beside him, and Lui couldn’t help smiling.

“I can’t read it…” he said, glaring at Lui, “it’s gibberish.”

“Actually, it’s a dead language,” Lui told him, tapping the scroll and the black text written in old ink, it wasn’t even faded, yet obscure from anyone who didn’t understand the structure of the language itself. “It’s not for Hollow’s, not even for Magician’s either.”

“Then who is it for?” David asked.

“The Elder’s,” Lui told him, and he decided to ease out that annoyance from his friend as he spoke its language, _“The Void collapsed within the thrashing of The Sunsea, within The Waking of the soft sand, and the warmth of The Malath Thicket. There where they gather together, there where they dream of possibility, there were the voices of the Prophet speaks, and—”_

“For fuck sakes, Lui, you just said that the Elder’s can only read it.”

“I’m a Great Magician,” Lui said to him, “I’ve learned this language on the crest of the Fourth Age.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know many languages,” David said, shaking his head and looking mildly disgusted at the scroll. “Is there anything useful that we need to know or was the Locating Ward useless?” He pulled his sleeve up and there was a marking drawn by Lui a few hours ago when he wanted to start the plan to steal one of the scrolls within the Grand Library. Not many people were allowed entry, but Lui allowed David permission within its confines by the use of the ward. There was a lot of dead Wards hanging around The Veiled Spire within The Frost March, making it easy for Lui to devise the plan.

He had no means of leaving Carran City, but he was not oblivious to the change that was happening around him and his friends. He sensed it by the winds, and the Elemental's pulling away from the city, from the dark places, and the warmth of their own substance.

He had to find out, and he and David left for The Frost March a few days ago. A second region that separated from Estral and the Ipharian Kingdom. The scroll itself was meant to reveal to them about the events that were written for this particular Age in time. Now that it has, he might as well find a way to figure out what they’re meant to do about it.

“This might be mildly troubling,” Lui confessed.

“Why?” David asked, looking at the scroll with furrowed brows and confused eyes. “What does it say? Did I get the wrong one?”

Lui smiled, almost about to laugh but held it back. “No. It’s not you, Daithi, it’s where we have to go that’s troubling.”

“And where’s that?” he inquired.

“Right now, I think we should head for The Lethlanis Peaks,” Lui got off the bench and strode down the hall with David right behind him.

“Why there?” he asked, already wrapping his arms around himself and shuddering from the prospect, “it’s freezing.”

“I need a blessing,” Lui said, “and you do too.”

“I’m a Hollow, not a Mystic.”

Lui chuckled. “Careful where you place your words, friend, the wrong person can hear that and think you’re against our kind.”

“You know I’m not.”

“I know, but many think otherwise. They look at me differently now that you became my shadow.”

David wrinkled his nose, “Is that wrong? Should I go back to Estral?”

“No,” Lui said, and they turned a corner, empty and stoic of bright colors where only dark grays bled upon the smooth rock, “I don’t care what other people think. Maybe once, in my youth, I might’ve. But time flies, and usually caring what other people think is a useless habit. It only makes one look frail of mind.”

“And you don’t want people to look at me like that?” David asked.

Lui stopped in front of a door, he closed his eyes and rapped his fingers softly against the wood. The spell was undisturbed, only a breath was punctured upon it, but nothing more. “Magician’s already see Hollow’s as worthless,” Lui opened the door and they walked inside, it was a small room with a tall thin window that looked out to icy lakes and white wide paths throughout the valley, “and I’d rather not have anyone think you are, if I can keep you alive long enough, and one day you can show them you have more without the use of magic, then maybe that can change their minds.”

“Now you’re considerate?” David asked, closing the door.

Lui smiled to himself. “No. I’d rather have them see Hollow’s as a threat, people they’ll never attack again. The thought would be stupid in a few decades. Things take time, Daithi.”

Lui took out his luggage from under the thin bed, passing one to David who opened his, and they both changed out of their too thin clothing for the cold land they came to live in for several days. Now they were ready to leave.

“Are you going to tell me what was on the scroll?” David asked, turning around in a thick brown coat, including brown pants and boots. He covered his head with the hood that had fur lining, while Lui was about to pull his own coat around himself.

“I’m not sure if you really want to come, it’s a long ways, and I’d rather not—”

“Come on, Lui, after that entire speech about not making me weak in front of your peers, and a whole powerful race of Hollow’s,” David said, scowling at him.

“Again, David, don’t let them hear you insult this whole powerful race of mine,” Lui said, clasping the luggage closed, “and fine, you’re right about my speech. You can come along to meet three of the last living Elder’s of our time.”

He laughed at David’s shocked expression, his jaw had fallen open and his eyes widened, even his words had faded from his tongue.

“A-are...you…?”

Lui nodded, “Yes. The scroll itself says that we need to speak to the three Elder’s to seek out _The Solitary Prophet_.”

“Three...Elders?”

Lui couldn’t help but laugh again. David had to sit down on the bed, shaking again, not of the cold, but of the mild fear that Lui also felt. It was a nauseating fear, but also one of incredible intrigue.

“The Sunsea, The Waking,” David murmured, shaking his head, and a smile began to rise to his face, “and The Malath Thicket.”

Lui placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We might not come out of this alive, so I’ll also get into contact with Evan and possibly The Storm Council, maybe they can figure something else on that side of the country. Until now, we have to get out of here before they find out we stole their ancient scroll.”

David’s elation faded before meeting Lui’s face. “Ancient?”

Lui nodded. “What else do you think you were stealing?”

“I...I...”

“Yes,” Lui grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, “you just stole a powerful scroll by the use of a Locating Ward. I thought it might take awhile, but this place is really old, and is coupled by my own wards I managed to place after a few days of staying within their sanctuaries.”

“That’s why you were in The Dreaming…” David grabbed his luggage, already heading for the door, “we should go.”

Lui chuckled, clutching his own luggage by the handle and following his frightened friend out the door. “Let’s go then, before we’re shoved into a jail cell and executed for treason.”


	5. The Sphere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMii7y is trying to get everything set up for his move out of the city, while also making sure no one finds out who and what he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I was checking some tarot and charm reading on yt, and it gave me more ideas for this fic. This chapter is a bit shorter than the rest, but it most likely be that way since SMii7y isn't exactly the main character of the main plot, but soon his own story arc will coexist among Vanoss and Delirious's. :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

“Witch’s Bone. Demon Fat. Bright Bane. Dragon Blood. Demon Horn. Siren’s Nail,” SMii7y muttered, packing the jars into a wooden lacquered box. He closed the clasp and pushed it to the side along with many others he was organizing and storing away. He opened the cupboard under his sink and picked up a silver pot with black etched marks on the outside, with carved in stars along the edges. He placed it on the counter, and took out several silver coins from a purple see through pouch and whispered, “coins for luck,” and dropped them in, and listened to them clatter together as he rummaged through another drawer.

There was a knock at the door, but he was too busy looking for the Hound tooth to notice. The door opened, and slammed shut, thumping came from the stairs and a man stood at the threshold, panting lightly as he glanced around the room.

“What the hell, SMii7y? What’s going on?” It was his friend, Kryoz, or in other words, John. He had asked him to come to The Sleeping Owl right after Jonathan and Luke had left. It was urgent, and his heart hadn’t stopped racing since. 

“A Crow has been on the premise,” he said, almost losing his balance and gripping the counter for leverage before picking up a silver syringe from within a drawer beside his fridge. He was still off balanced since summoning a Shade, but he was soon gaining his energy back every half hour.

“A Crow, are you serious?” Kryoz asked, stepping closer to SMii7y. He turned around with a disinfectant cloth, and a syringe. When Kryoz noticed what was in his hand, he winced, and pushed up his sleeve. “Can’t use your own blood?”

“They’ll know if I do,” SMii7y said, wiping down Kryoz vein within his arm and wrapped a cord around, flicking the skin until the vein popped. He sniffled, pushing the syringe in while Kryoz gritted his teeth, once he was finished, he pulled the syringe out and passed it to Kryoz who placed a cloth against the wound. 

“What do you mean, they’ll know? And what the hell was a Crow doing here?” he asked, turning around, only to see SMii7y dropping a match on a limp creature lying on the kitchen floor. It was breathing raggedly, but as the fire engulfed it, it screamed and thrashed horrendously. “You used...dark magic.”

SMii7y scoffed. “I’m a Blood Witch, Kryoz,” he said, shaking his head and looking through a few more boxes. “I’m illegal as it gets. This shop was more of a cover, nothing more. They’ll soon find out, now that a Crow learned of what I am.”

“How did they find out?” Kryoz asked.

“Jonathan and Luke...they were cursed, they needed help.” SMii7y plucked a glass jar with a cork from a box and passed it to Kryoz who began pouring in the blood from the syringe. 

“Help? So they can get you caught by one of those...creatures?” Kryoz asked.

A medium, he needed a medium. Rummaging through the boxes and drawers, he found several charms within. He closed his eyes and placed his hands within a small bag and pulled out a rusted key. 

“Sprinkle the blood near the doors and windows,” he told Kryoz, fixated on the key. What did it mean? He had to unlock or was inevitably going to lock something important. He walked past Kryoz who was dripping the blood on the thresholds of the back door. He entered the next room that was mostly packed up. The familiars were already gone, the first he had shipped off through a warping spell. When he came to the front door, he checked the knob, and pushed the key in, turning it, it clicked, and he arched a brow. 

He took the key out and walked back into the kitchen where Kryoz was sprinkling blood onto the windows. 

“Do me a favor,” SMii7y said, picking out the coins from within the silver bowl and setting them back into a pouch. He grabbed another pouch, this time there were letters inside. “Pick some out, and drop them into the bowl, see what it spells out.”

“Why?” Kryoz asked, taking the bowl from SMii7y.

“Just do as I say,” he told him, grabbing a broom from the closet and started to clean up the mess he had made when the Crow arrived. The ashy creatures returned to their own dimension when he burned them. The Dreaming. A place that SMii7y had walked once, and would rather not return. Some had considered him a portal of some kind, but his own abilities were more darker than what they assumed. 

A Blood Witch was as rare as a Cursebreaker, but a lot more illegal for their association with dark magic. Blood magic was in a way dark magic. A more raw subset of it that had nothing to do with raising the dead, or even speaking to the dead through mediums or other people. The exploitation of it was extreme, he wouldn’t deny that, but he didn’t open his shops so he can steal money from others. At least not in the way people thought he was as a Blood Witch.

His status would send him straight to the Iron Citadel, and he would rather be a free man instead of a prisoner. 

“I thought you didn’t work with Divination,” Kryoz said, dropping the letters into the bowl.

“We’re going to Varya in the Ipharian Kingdom,” SMii7y said absently, stuffing the key into his pocket and packing up a few more boxes and pouches. Once he was finished, he walked over to Kryoz who was staring at the letters in the bowl. “Hollow’s like these types of magic. Even how much nonsense it brings.”

Kryoz hummed and said, “The Sphere.” He looked up to meet SMii7y’s eyes. “What does that mean?”

SMii7y grinned at the words written inside. “See, nonsense, but to us, it’s the new name of my new shop.” He dumped the letters back into the pouch and set the bowl into another box. 

Kryoz was now looking at the ashy pile on the ground. “Why do you summon them? They aren’t any use to us.”

“More of a diversion,” SMii7y answered, pulling on his coat. He wouldn’t tell Kryoz, but unlike Necromancers, he was able to summon them and they took a lot of energy out of him. As a Blood Witch, he was able to hone in that energy with the use of living people, and that’s what made him different from Necromancers. Both kinds can be as dangerous, but unlike the ones in the past, SMii7y tried to stay away from what he could truly do so he could keep his soul and freedom.

“And why are we going to Ipharian?”

“Because Ipharian is close to my Guardian,” SMii7y said, staring at Kryoz and wondering if the man had anything else to ask. He seemed perplexed by the entire thing, and SMii7y had worked quick to make sure that everything he had inside The Sleeping Owl was packed away and ready to go. “No one needs to know this, but you’re my medium, Kryoz, and you need to come with me if I’m going to do this.” 

Kryoz nodded, his lips pulling into a grin. “I never said I wasn’t coming with you. I’d probably walk the ends of the world with you if it came to it.”

SMii7y rolled his eyes, chuckling,” Yeah, I really don't think you’d want to visit The Dreaming. Most, excluding the Great Magician’s, dislike it there.”

“I’m still shocked you went there,” Kryoz said, shaking his head. “Was it dark?”

“No,” SMii7y said, solemn. “It wasn’t...not to me.”

He didn’t know why anyone thought it was dark. Maybe the Dreaming part of the title made it seem like it was. An endless darkness with speckled stars. It wasn’t like that in the least. It was a place of myriads of souls blending together, and none knew who they were, and sometimes one would get lost amongst the existentialism.

Kryoz placed a hand on SMii7y’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. In the past, he had apologized for what he had done to Kryoz, to the magic afflicted upon them both. He still felt it, and wanted to apologize again. 

Kryoz was not meant to be a medium. He was a human being, a magician of low rank, but connected to a Blood Witch. That was a death sentence, but they had agreed to the terms, and accepted it. Even if SMii7y would continue to feel guilty for what he had done years ago. 

“To Varya,” Kryoz said.

SMii7y gritted his teeth when Kryoz passed him the bottle with a bit of his blood left inside. He took it, and spilled the rest into his palm, taking Kryoz’s hand, and squeezing and concentrating as he said, “To Varya.”

Maybe if they leave one Kingdom and to the next, The Crow and his Necromancer won’t follow them. He was afraid, and he hoped his friends would figure it out for themselves now that they had themselves a Cursebreaker.


	6. The Untamed Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian has been struggling with his own magic, trying to learn it as much as he can, but he's surrounding by secrets that he wished he could know, and a friend he hoped to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! :D I mostly get some of this information from pinterest. But there are some I make up for the hell of it since it is my world, and I can make up the rules. :)  
> And yes, Brian gets his own story arc along with several others. Unlike most, he doesn't actually know much, but nor do the others! LOL.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Leave a comment and/or Kudo! :D

Brian tossed in a pinch of salt into the fireplace every fifteen minutes. He thought it was needed, also to do something while Evan was knelt before the two Magician’s bound to the floor. One of them was knocked out and sleeping soundly from the sounds of his soft breathing, the other was breathing too hard and groaning with his eyes tightly sealed shut.

He picked up a small round mirror with smooth black edges and walked over to Evan. Without disturbing him, Brian brought the mirror up towards the Magician named Jonathan.

His own abilities were a bit different to the others, slightly untamed that needed mastering, and thanks to being an apprentice to a Great Magician, it did help to learn how to control the abilities when his own reflection stared back.

In this instance, he wasn’t staring at his reflection, but something else that was within Jonathan’s mind. A shroud appeared, purple and black fog filled the mirror where snaps of electricity flitted in and out.

Brian breathed evenly as he knelt down beside the Magician and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need to calm down. Breathe, and your mind will clear.”

The Magician gritted his teeth, and attempted to calm, but Evan was working too quick through his mind, sifting through the memories and thoughts and emotions. It was hard for Brian to focus on the mirror itself without breaking the connection.

He stood and crossed the room and picked up a bowl sitting on a bookshelf. It had different types of stones inside, small within his palm as he plucked one and set the bowl down.

An Amethyst, meant to calm the mind. Hopefully it works. Brian walked back over to the stressed Magician and poured a bit of his magic inside the stone before placing it into the Magician’s sweaty palm, he closed his fingers and stepped away, holding the mirror once more toward the man.

The shroud is still there, and it confuses Brian now that Jonathan had calmed once he had placed the stone in his palm.

Evan sucked in a sliver of breath as he broke the connection between him and Jonathan. He wobbled as he stood, and Brian set the mirror down on the table before helping Evan toward a chair. He was also sweating, a faint sheet on his face as he wiped it away, at the same time, making his dark hair stand up while staring heavily at Jonathan.

The Magician has his eyes closed, seemingly to have fallen asleep with his companion. He was a lot more calm now, less in a fighting mood as he was earlier.

“There’s...a block between his mind,” Evan said, “and his memory. A dark spell is burned into his soul. It would take days for me to even break it, but I’m not sure if I want too after what I saw inside his head.”

“What did you see?” Brian asked, waving the mirror at him. “Cause I couldn’t see anything.”

Evan smiled, wiping away more sweat from his face. “I don’t really think you want to know. Reed did something to them...fucked something up, and he made sure I wouldn’t be able to notice unless I break it.” He shook his head, obviously annoyed by his predicament.

Brian returned his gaze to Jonathan and Luke. They seemed like normal Variants. Magician’s with low level abilities. Except it was odd for them to be working with Reed of all people. Evan’s former master and one who had terrible stories tied to him, and that landed his ass in the Iron Citadel, only to find his way out.

How did he do it? And what kind of vendetta did he have against Evan. It seemed his friend had known for sometime since finding the Curse Bearers along the streets of Carran City.

Brian wasn’t stupid though, there was something else going on that he wasn’t saying.

He looked down at his hands and knew when he came to a Great Magician, the training would take time, the mastering of his own abilities would be years before he could fully be confident in using them. The mirror was more of a medium, something to push his power inside without hurting himself in the process, including the stones, or even charms.

He hoped he and Brock could forgo their past and move onto their future, to give light to it. He wanted it, so he could forget what they had done in the wake of when they learned of their magic, and when the destruction hadn’t fully healed. It was almost like an act of repentance in his eyes.

Was Jonathan and Luke the same?

Brian tossed another pinch of salt into the fire when the doors to the room opened up. Scarlet Ann Hester returned, her long wavy brunette hair tossed over one naked shoulder, while her left hand held a glass full of Whiskey, and gold bangles clinked together with her movement. She was followed by Brock who held a glass in his hand, and along his fingers, down to his wrists were black markings made from a sharpie pen.

He was staring nervously at the water, biting his lip while his brows were pinched together in concentration. Why did he have sigils on his hands?

Brian crossed the room, glancing at Brock who didn’t look at him as he closed the door, and made his way back over to Scarlet and Evan.

She sat back into the velvet chair with gold handles as before, and smiled up at Evan who was waiting for her report. “We received a message from Lui from The Frost March.”

Evan stood, a bit wobbly, but he held his ground. “And? What did he say?”

Scarlet smirked at his question, and told him, “he had stolen an Ancient Scroll from The Veiled Tower in that region. Locating a riddle within it, he’s off to speak with the Old Gods.”

Evan furrowed his brows, confused.

Brian felt the same way, his mouth fell open, and then he started to laugh. “Are you serious? He can do that? Speak to them?”

Scarlet glanced at Brian, arching a brow, “You do know, Lui is one of the Great Magician’s, he’s been alive since the third age. He has known many throughout this world, and is quite cunning in his own right. Strong than most would take him for, quite respectful, besides stealing a scroll and opening it.”

“He knows something,” Evan said, too distracted by the news as he sat back down. “That’s the only reason why he’s going to the Elders. He knows something that we don’t.”

The Three Elders. Brian had heard of them, and they stayed within The Dreaming Realm, a place that many don’t travel unless death caught up to them. Some of The Great Magician’s can travel into The Dreaming, while others are tormented with past mistakes, or dead loved ones.

He had heard it was a foul place to be in.

Brian glanced to Scarlet who was taking a sip of her drink, and wondered if she ever stepped into The Dreaming. He imagined that she had from the way she was, as eccentric and laid back that she was, he didn’t think anything could scare her.

“After all this time,” Evan said, shaking his head, “he’s been traveling for so long, what is he looking for, and why bother speaking to _them_ now?”

Before she could answer, there was a clear realization flickering in her eyes before Scarlet sucked in a breath as she dropped her glass without bothering to levitate it, and reached out her hand toward Brian and Brock. It was something she had done many times when she needed them to go far without walking or driving, it was easier than Warping, or possibly a way to control them in another form. They had signed that agreement, and Brian had let go of his frustration over it a year ago.

This, however, was more forced than any other time. The glass in Brock’s hands dropped to the ground, and Brian found himself being shoved forward until his body grew small, and arms formed into wings of a dark blue bird with a dark body. They stayed near Scarlet while Evan was already to his feet, his attention to a man standing in the corner of the room.

A set of amber eyes with dark splotching underneath upon pale skin with sharp features. His hair was black and short, and he was lean in his dark clothing. He held a black feather between his finger tips.

“You are not alone,” The Crow spoke, dropping the feather onto the floor, and Brian felt the sharpest sting inside his body, making him wince. Brock seemed to have felt it too and landed on Scarlet’s shoulder, avoiding nicking her skin.

Evan didn’t seem to notice, nor did Scarlet. The two Magician’s laid sleeping, unbeknownst that a Crow stood not to far from their unconscious bodies.

“I see they did find you,” The Crow glanced to the two on the floor, a smirk rising to his lips. “I’m surprised, Cursebreaker, that you would hide in a place that doesn’t ward off my kind.” His gaze was empty as he made eye contact with Evan who had squeezed his fingers tight into fists at his sides.

From where Brian was flapping his wings, he could smell the carrion off the man. A dark depth of unease that made him want to move away. Dirt and grime, something foul. He’d need a bath after this encounter, if it doesn’t go awry.

“You’re dead,” Evan spoke, strong and sure. “There’s nothing to your existence but your Necromancer. So don’t come here and think you’re invited, when you don’t even pose a threat to me.”

The Crow curled his lip, a growl leaving his throat. Before he could speak, or even throw some kind of incantation, Scarlet rose her hand and Brian almost lost his balance in the air, the hot wind shoved him back while Brock had glanced at him with dark eyes.

The furniture scraped to the sides, books flew off the shelves, and the glasses around them shattered. The debris was flung towards The Crow who sneered at his Mistress, and he warped out of the room. She closed her hand, and everything had suspended in place.

Evan pushed away a shard of wood from his face as he frowned at his broken glass. “This is getting too confusing.”

Scarlet fixed the glass that had broken around her, including the splintered wood and fallen books. There was no sign of it ever breaking, or shattering. And the furniture itself had stayed askew, but it didn’t seem like it fully mattered.

Brian wanted to ask if she’d put them back to the way they were, he was getting tired of flapping his wings, but Scarlet wasn’t interested in them at the moment as she crossed the room to Evan who removed the binding spell around Jonathan and Luke.

“Go to Whitmore, I’ll meet you there in a few days until I can figure why the wards are off, and possibly put more on before I leave.”

Evan grinned, “Now you’re on my side.”

“I’m always on your side, dear,” Scarlet said.

Evan nudged the two Magician’s, waking them up from their slumber, and Brian watched as they both frantically glanced around as if they had a nightmare of some kind.

What was going on? Brian wanted to ask, and when he looked to Scarlet, he wondered why she protected them in the way that she did. From the Crow. He didn’t seem as threatening, but she put them back into their familiar forms before he arrived.

What did any of this mean for them, and for Evan, who was being hunted. Now they learned Lui was going to speak with the last Elders of their time. They all seemed to know something, but he wasn’t sure what or why.

He looked to Brock and he noticed that he still had sigils upon his wings, barely visible along his dark feathers, but they were there.

What was going on and why was he out of the loop?


	7. The Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan and Luke are curious and they decide to ask Evan questions, except they're attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing this fic. Mostly because I like Urban Fantasy in an fantasy world! :D 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! :D
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

It wasn’t something they were going to say no too, not when his mind was hazy from what the Cursebreaker had done to them. Jonathan was trying his hardest to ignore the headache pounding on the inside of his head. He was given a bag, a new coat that smelled newer than anything he has ever owned, and was pushed out the door along with Luke who had stayed by his side since they left the building. 

Now, they were sitting inside a small train compartment, Jonathan sitting closer to the door while Luke sat by the window. He didn’t bother fighting him for it, they were both not in the mood for arguments over their sitting arrangements. 

The Cursebreaker on the other hand sat across from them, taking out a book from his luggage, and was leaned back against the velvet seat, ignoring their presence. The book itself was brown and looked quite old. Why did he read something like that? 

Looking at him now without a rush in his veins, he was able to assess him differently besides the splitting pain. The Cursebreaker, or in other words, Evan, had black hair, some of the strands fell along his face that was angular and with a light tan yet would be considered pale. The rest of his hair was pulled back into a short pony tail at the back of his head. He wore a long brown coat and underneath was a black shirt, black trousers with a notable rip in the knee, and simple black shoes. 

He didn’t seem like the type of person who would be rare amongst their kind. He looked like one of those prim assholes that walk the universities. 

He did say they were heading for Whitmore, which was two towns between Carran, and going the opposite way from Aetheria City. He didn’t really understand why they were going there, and he had the desire to ask, but first he took out a bottle of water, placed his hand around it and made it cold enough to quench his dry throat. 

“I can’t believe we’re not moving,” Luke said, leaning against the side of the compartment, gazing wearily out the window. He looked pale, dark circles under his eyes from the strain of what they had gone through, including what he was throwing up earlier from the curse. “Give me some of that,” he waved to Jonathan who passed the bottle to him. 

Once he took a chug of the water, almost emptying it out, Luke looked toward Evan, “What did you do to us back at The Storm Council?”

“I took off the curse,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it should’ve been obvious. 

Luke rolled his eyes. “I realized that, what I mean is what you did while we were knocked out.”

The Cursebreaker sighed, “I needed you to stay still, and if you didn’t, the curse would take awhile for me to sift through?”

“Sift through?” Jonathan asked, glancing around when the train began to move, an announcement told them where they were headed. Whitmore. He hadn’t gone there in a long time. 

“Your memories,” Evan said. “I needed to sift through your memories where Reed had placed the curse. It took awhile, but I managed to break it.”

Jonathan frowned at that answer. He was expecting something a lot more interesting, “I thought you just...touched people.”

“Memory helps as a medium with my ability.”

“So, a Cursebreaker, shouldn’t they have locked you away like valuable treasure?” Luke asked, and Jonathan nudged him in the side, but it did nothing to deter Luke from staring at Evan.

“They did,” Evan said, “for half my life, the other half was when I bargained for my freedom.”

“You work for them, as what?” Jonathan asked, not bothering to hide his interest. It’s not like they ever met a Cursebreaker. The only other time is when they read about them in books about the different types of Magicians. A Cursebreaker had little information besides their rarity.

“Depends on what they want.”

Jonathan nodded, and recalled something SMii7y had said when they spoke to him in his shop. “We talked to a friend...before we arrived at the Storm Council and—”

Evan grimaced, “Please quit with the familiarity. You shouldn’t have found yourselves there in the first place, your _blood witch_ shouldn’t have been able to do what he did if the wards weren’t down.”

Luke was surprised as he said, “He? You know who he is.”

“I just told you that I sifted through your memories.” Annoyance was plain on Evan’s face, and he looked away from them to stare out the window. “Which means I went backwards, not forwards. It would’ve taken too much time, and wasted my magic.”

“Well,” Jonathan began again, a little more awkward this time, “before we arrived, our friend told us that Cursebreaker’s are similar to Spellbreaker’s, or in other words, they’re the same thing.”

Evan snorted, “Really? A _blood witch_ said that. An illegal thing who carves their way into The Dreaming, and uses dark magic as their medium?”

“He’s a close friend,” Luke said in a drawl. 

“I noticed,” Evan said, and continued, “except, your _friend_ is wrong. A Spellbreaker and Cursebreaker are two different things, they may seem similar, but they aren’t.”

Confused, Jonathan asked, “What are the differences, it seems a Spellbreaker can...break spells, and a Cursebreaker can...do the same?” 

“You’re quite uninformed even when the knowledge is right between your teeth.” Evan sighed, “A Spellbreaker doesn’t use any type of dark magic, that’s the difference. They can break spells, sure, that’s enough for them, but they fall on the spectrum of not being able to cross a certain line. That’s their limit. A Cursebreaker is another thing altogether. It falls in dark magic, and it’s also an innate power. Not something that can be learned, but you must be born with it. That’s a type of curse all on itself.”

“And yet you called our friend illegal, aren’t you illegal yourself?” Luke asked.

Evan sighed, his shoulder’s relaxing. He was bored of the conversation, it was obvious. “What I am is a lot more valuable than a _blood witch_ of all things. They break the boundaries of life and death. They toy with it, and use it in their _craft_ . If they were ever caught and identified as a _blood witch_ , they’d be executed on the spot, while I’d be locked away like a treasure.”

“I wonder which is worse,” Luke muttered.

“Exactly, but times have changed, and the Storm Council is a lot more lenient than it has been in the past.”

Jonathan wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t want to spit the words out in front of their savior. He had broken the curse that was placed on them, but the questions still lingered, the ones that seemed important.

“You were once _his_ apprentice, right?” Jonathan inquired.

Evan glanced out the window at the country side, the wide green prairies and valley’s in the distance. The cornflower blue sky, and fluffy clouds that were beginning to grow dark, and maybe by morning, there’ll be under a rain cloud.

Jonathan was sure Evan wasn’t going to answer. Maybe he’ll even talk about something else, or ignore the question altogether. They never did find out from Reed about his former apprentices. It wasn’t polite to ask, or maybe Jonathan didn’t care.

“Once,” Evan responded, surprising Jonathan, “a long time ago, when I thought it mattered.”

“How did you meet him?” Luke asked. 

“He was part of the Storm Council.”

Jonathan blinked and gaped at Luke before turning his attention back to Evan. “Are you serious?”

Evan nodded, confusion passed over his face. “What? The two of you were his apprentices, how did you not know?”

“One moment he’s teaching us how to master our magic, the next he was thrown in the Iron Citadel,” Luke told him, shrugging.

“Right. And then he somehow escaped…”

“We didn’t help him,” Jonathan said, disliking the accusatory tone in Evan’s voice.

“Then I wonder who did. No one escapes the citadel the way he did,” Evan mused, once more staring out the window, and bringing the conversation to a close. 

An hour past by and Jonathan left their compartment to check out the food in the restaurant part of the train. He read over the options that were written with chalk on a black board. He tapped his finger on the counter, and decided to order himself three coffee’s, and a chocolate ice-cream in a waffle bowl with strawberries, and caramel drizzled on top. He headed back to the compartment and overheard a bit of the conversation as he walked inside.

“Where did those two magician’s go,” Luke asked, while Evan stared at him blankly, “the ones who healed Jonathan and I.”

“Oh, Scarlet Ann Hester turned them into birds,” Evan shrugged, not noticing Luke’s dumbfounded look on his face as he reached for the offered coffee from Jonathan.”

“They got turned into birds!” Luke said, a bit too loud and gaining glares from both Jonathan and Evan. 

“Yes,” Evan said, glancing at Jonathan. “I thought it was obvious?”

“You know,” Jonathan sat down beside Luke, and propping his legs on the seat beside Evan, “you keep saying that.”

“You are Magician’s,” Evan said, sounding bitter, “I thought you would’ve noticed, but I can see Reed didn’t have enough time with you two.”

Luke shook his head, “Who was that woman? I never heard of a Magician turning others into birds.”

“It happens,” Evan said. “Scarlet Ann Hester is what you would call a Great Magician, I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her, she’s quite popular, she was a former opera singer, and a famous lounge singer when she was in her early twenties about several centuries ago, I’m not sure, her records are hidden from the public so I don’t really notice all that much.”

“ _She’_ s a Great Magician?” Jonathan asked. He had never met one before, but he heard about them. They were incredibly strong people who mastered a lot of skills throughout their years. Some can even master immortality, eternal youth, they can walk inside The Dreaming without dying, and control other people’s magic, or even take it away. They were formidable, but at the same time, rare. 

He heard there were at least six or seven Great Magician’s, and some lived for centuries. He didn’t think he’d be in the presence of one like the woman he had seen inside the Storm Council.

“She seemed kind of weak,” Luke commented. 

Jonathan shot him a glare which his friend blatantly ignored. 

“Great Magician’s hone their abilities from the Elder’s, and they are sworn to an oath not to use their abilities unless a war is enacted amongst the countries, or something entirely else that I’m unaware of,” Evan said, sounding bored. 

“So why were they turned into birds?” Jonathan asked, scooping up his ice-cream and putting into his mouth, relishing in the coldness filling his mouth, and the sweetness. Maybe this train ride wasn’t so bad. 

Evan didn’t look like he wanted to explain everything, but he let out a sigh, and did anyways. “Like what I said about The Great Magician’s, they don’t normally use their abilities unless provoked, however, they can choose their apprentices, and some Great Magician’s even decline many offers throughout their lives.” He smiled, but it seemed empty. “It’s a privilege to be taught by a Great Magician.”

“Were you ever taught by one?” Luke asked.

Evan looked down at his hands as if they were interesting. “No. I’m a Cursebreaker, it would be useless for a Great Magician to teach me, I had to find another teacher to hone my skills, and at the time, Reed was the only available person who didn’t turn me away.” He scowled, a genuine expression that made Jonathan smile. “If only I knew he was an asshole.”

Luke took the waffle bowl from Jonathan’s hands, while Jonathan tried to read Evan’s facial expressions. Was he disappointed in himself that he had let himself be fooled by the man, or was it something else?

“He betrayed you?” Jonathan asked, and Evan met his gaze, empty, yet filled with secrets that no one was ever going to touch. “How did he do it?”

Evan gave them a small cruel smile, “He tried to take out my heart.”

Luke almost spit out the ice-cream that was in his mouth. 

“What? Why would he do that?” Jonathan asked, taken back by the answer.

Evan went back to looking out the window, tensing at the questions that kept piling up. He seemed contemplative, maybe even bored and annoyed by how much he was avoiding their gazes. “I don’t know. I think it was for a incantation, maybe a curse.”

“What the fuck would he need a heart for?” Luke asked, passing the ice-cream and waffle bowl back to Jonathan. 

“Like I said, I don’t know,” Evan stressed, his brows creased as he glared out the window and the rather fast moving clouds that were getting closer to them, even how fast they moved along the railway, the clouds deepened along the sky.

“You’re a Cursebreaker, it must mean something.”

“It happened years ago,” Evan waved his hand as if it didn’t matter that the man who was his teacher tried to take his heart, even though he had sent a message through two of his former apprentices in the one place he had thought he was safe in. He was a little bold about it too.

“There’s not many spells or curses that have to do with a heart,” Luke said.

“Dark magic usually has them,” Jonathan muses.

“Those are animals.”

“Usually they’re humans.”

“Sometimes baby parts,” Luke shivered. “Why the fuck would someone want to cut up a baby.”

“They need a spell one way or another.”

“There’s easier ways to do it.”

“Some people enjoy cutting up human flesh in front of a roaring fire,” Jonathan said, scooping up some of his ice-cream and placing it inside his mouth. It was melting, but it still tasted cold and sweet.

“It depends on the specified spell,” Evan cut in with a drawl, giving them both a steady glance. “It’s been centuries since people have decided to use human parts for their spells and curses. Nowadays, magician’s use other means.”

“Then why would a rather good Magician like Reed would want to take your heart?” Luke asked, leaning forward, “out of anyone in the world, why you?”

“Maybe because at one point I was his apprentice,” Evan said, smiling, but Jonathan was getting the feeling he was being sarcastic. Did he even care about what Reed had tried to do to him?

“Or because he needed an ingredient that was specific to whatever the fuck he was trying to do,” Luke said, not in the mood for jokes. 

“A Cursebreaker’s heart,” Jonathan said, frowning at his ice-cream.

“Exactly,” Luke leaned back against the compartment and smirking at Evan. “And like you said earlier about Spellbreaker’s and Cursebreaker’s, he could’ve easily gotten himself a Spellbreaker, because from what I know is that they aren’t as rare.”

Evan rolled his eyes, “You’re right, I guess. A Cursebreaker is rare, they only come around every several centuries. I’m the first in a long time, and if there ever was another, I’m sure the Storm Council would’ve found out about them by now.”

“If he managed to get your heart,” Jonathan said, not hiding his nervousness at the thought, “what would happen exactly?”

“I’m not sure,” Evan said, sounding truthful and yet there was also a sliver of doubt, “unlike a Spellbreaker, my magic is dark, it comes from The Dreaming.”

“All magic comes from there,” Luke said.

Evan shook his head, “For Magician’s like yourselves, you’re incredibly uninformed. Magic is life itself, a part of our existence, it’s all around us in waves and ripples. You get your magic from this plane of existence, others get it from The Dreaming itself, like my magic, the Great Magician’s, and others who use dark magic,” he wrinkled his nose, “like your _blood witch_.” 

It still confused Jonathan. Why would Reed need his heart for? What kind incantation is he trying to do exactly. 

Before he could ask another question pertaining to this, Evan got up and pressed his fingers to the window. “Shit. That isn’t a cloud!” He twisted around and headed for the door.

“What?” Luke got up and looked out and before Jonathan could peek around him, Luke backed away, almost falling before turning to face Jonathan with a wide eyed fear of panic on his face. “Shit. We have to put a barrier on this fucking train!”

“What is it?” Jonathan asked, and before he could even look, the cloud had come as close as it could to the point that Jonathan knew it wasn’t a cloud. It was a large mass of crows hitting the side of the train where it began to slow, and Jonathan fell forward onto Luke while he had lost his ice-cream that splattered on the seat where Evan had been sitting. 

Luke grabbed onto Jonathan, “we have to put up a fucking barrier before these assholes kill us!”

“Why are they here? What the fuck is going on?” Jonathan asked, as he and Luke scrambled to their feet. 

“For fuck sakes, Jon, they’re here for the damn Cursebreaker.” Luke dashed out of the room as screams filled the hall.

Jonathan stared, unable to move as glass shattered from somewhere nearby, wood splintering on the sides of the train, and he almost lost his balance. He sucked in a breath, turned around to face the crows and placed his hands against the window. He he had to concentrate. He squeezed his eyes closed and summoned his magic. He went still, the sound fading, but he noticed something strange, a stuttering inside that came from the root of his magic where before, there was warmth, and now, nothing. 

There was no warmth. Only a transparent hold on his magic that used to feel comforting, unfortunately it’ll have to do. There was no time to ask questions about what was wrong with him, if he didn’t put up a barrier, a lot more people were going to die. 

The crows gave off a strong presence on the other side of the glass. A cold slithering along his shoulders, down his back, and snaking around his waist. This is dark magic, raw and potent, the smell of dry ice, ashes, and smoke filled his nose, and almost forced him to his knees. 

“Shit…” Jonathan wasn’t sure if he’ll be able to hold it off for long, not without Luke who had disappeared after the Cursebreaker. 


End file.
